


Remi is a sad Acorn Boy

by Tbikape



Category: No Straight Roads (Video Game)
Genre: Fire, Mentions of child neglect, No beta we die like sidewalk worms, Running away from home, The rest of the team comes in chapter two, ask to tag, it's benign but thre is a knife
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:49:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26880154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tbikape/pseuds/Tbikape
Summary: I saw Remi during his battle and thought "Huh? Is he an acorn?" so now he is!
Kudos: 7





	Remi is a sad Acorn Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is sad but it gets better. Also I love this little guy and want him to be ok. May edit the species later. It is SO HARD to write someone without a name.

Run  
You have to run  
Ignore the lights, throw off your hoof-caps that's how they track you.  
Ignore the feeling of the bushes whipping your face as you run.   
The city isn't too far, just keep going.  
Quercus Argentata 1 was so tired, nothing but pure fear propelled him forward. He'd always dreamed of running from the 'Garten but this was never what he dreamed of. He was covered in muck squatting in a drainage vent getting ready to crawl through what could be sewage. The sound of his pursuers had faded but the siren still wailed in the distance. Still this was what he wanted, wasn't it? To be away from those horrible kids who made fun of him? As long as he didn't get caught is all. He held out his palm and used his ability, leaving a small flicker of light. The tunnel was clear (aside from the gross water),all sewers lead to the city, right?. So he crawled on hands and knees through a tunnel he had no idea if it lead to Vinyl. He must have crawled for like an hour rubbing his knees raw and causing his hands to sting until he finally fell about a foot. Hard, cold, and moist concrete broke his fall. He spared a glance backward and then ran deeper into the darkness.  
It had been a day and he'd managed to curl up in a corner of the sewer that wasn't as cold as the others. One thing that he never would have suspected was how ever present music was. Even after he found his nook in the corner it sung him to sleep. The pipes, the walls the ground, even the air. All of it vibrated with music. It sang him to sleep and it never stopped. No "quiet time", he'd always wondered if he could have fallen asleep without it. Guess exhaustion took the edge off of old stony floors. That and running for miles. A single flash of his ability told him he was in a small indent in a hallway. The worst part about using his light was that it took hours to recharge and was almost useless if he didn't get lucky. This time he got nothing more impressive or defining other than some hot water pipes for the city that went straight up. What ever. Just keep following the wall and try to find a way out. If they hadn't found him yet then the tracker must have actually been thrown off. That or they didn't care. He didn't know if he wanted to think of that. He just pushed himself forward and tried to ignore those thoughts. Eventually he saw a light overhead, small but natural. He slowly climbed the barely visible ladder. There was a problem, the manhole was damn heavy. He could lift it with a size change but damn, if he got caught... No, best to just keep trying. He had no idea how long it took him to get tired of pushing the damn metal manhole before he climbed down the ladder.   
Don't cry, you'll find another way out.   
Its just a setback.  
It must have been a whole day of wandering the stinky dark corridors before he came on a grate. This place was like a maze. No wonder they didn't find him before. Thankfully it looked like the parks district. People would be less dense there. He risked a quick size up to push the grate aside since the thing faced a wall. No danger of being seen as far as he could tell and he was sick of stankwater smell. God, his cap must have looked so ratty. His knees had healed up nicely despite being scratched to hell. Being Florn had its benefits he guessed. Maybe he should just go and dunk himself in a pond but he didn't want to poison anyone. Not that he swam through the stuff, but just to be sure, no spontaneous puddle-dancing. He almost didn't notice the shadow of a person walking past. He quickly pushed himself to the wall. Thankfully he didn't get noticed. Was the city always this hard to hide in?   
First things first. Makeup. He'd be spotted before he knew it with a headstamp. Maybe he could hide it with mud? Thankfully this was the least secure district, just try to avoid the weirdos that actually come near the dead-end waterway. He took a deep breath and walked toward the street. It was relatively dark compared to the bright silhouette he'd seen from the windows. In fact it was almost like he'd ventured into a different city, but the soft rock drifting out of homes told him otherwise. If he'd known what to call it he would have said it was a back road. He just thought dusk was a cities version of quiet time.. finally his eyes hit some clothes on a line near an open balcony. Jackpot. if he could just get there he'd be home free. It looked like no amount of parkour would get him up straight brick two stories up. Growing wasn't an option now that he was out in the open and he didn't think he could pull it off more than twice in a day. Maybe a pole or something? He dashed into the shadows of the dead end. The bars he bent were far too tiny. And heavy, wow. Really heavy. Nope. He didn't want to, but he guessed he'd just have to dart around the street until he could find a pole. His hand was the best he could do for covering his face at the moment. (mud was too different a shade)  
He just had to act like he belonged. No big deal with a hand over his face. it would be fine. Like high stakes hide and seek.  
He was bad at hide and seek.  
Surprisingly this didn't immediately end in him being pulled by the hand to his room with extra steps. Nobody seemed to notice him darting between buildings. The street wound like a root, meandering in ways incomprehensible to any sane person. The alleyways each providing moments of respite as he ran. He was more autopilot than thought. Someone almost saw him from a window. Slow down. His hooves screamed at the pavement. Clip-clop, don't stop just go S-L-O-W. Silhouettes dance in the lighted windows. The blobs weren't kind, no other windows were open or clothes out.  
He had to stop. He had almost lost sight of the blessed balcony. That wasn't good.  
He ducked deeper into the alley he was hiding. Maybe he needed to calm down. What was around him? Trash. Lots of smelly trash. He sat next to the smelly pile near a dumpster. Ugh. His hand hit the dumpster and he sighed audibly. The dumpster made a tiny thunk in response. He hoped he didn't have to sleep in one of these. Or the friendly neighborhood trash pile. What was in it that smelled so bad anyways? What did humans throw away? Probably a lot of meat?... He limped to the pile for a bit of a look. Mostly moldy cloth (unusable), plastics, and paper bits. Something did catch his eye, though. A lamp complete with cord. He carefully trudged into the outer layer of ew to retrieve his prize. No bulb but a small ceramic vase-like base and a ratty lampshade. The cord was long. Long enough for him to make a small whip crack out of the plug side. Nice. He put the lamp aside and took a deep breath. Well, stankwater wasn't so bad in retrospect. It must have took him close to an hour to find anything else remotely usable that was rope-like. He did manage to find a bunch of coathangers, though. He started to braid as the sun set behind the building-laden horizon.  
Somehow he felt like he needed to be next to the dumpster for this. Like it was a friend. Haaaa he really missed hearing other people. He had never been alone before. Not for long. There was always someone else at the 'Garten.   
Someone to mock him or not notice him getting bullied.  
With a final tug he pulled the makeshift rope taut. Now to bring the juryrigged rope to the beginning of a new life. He put the wrecked lampshade on his head. As much as he'd like to say it made it easier to move without a hand in his face, the lampshade was doing a good job of blocking his peripheral view. It was getting harder to see with the sun setting as well. He darted into corner. Oww. At least he didn't jam the braided clothes wire hook into his shoulder. He didn't need an infection. While he darted to and fro from the alleys he started to feel dread bubble up inside him. What if the mythical balcony door had closed? What if they took the clothes in? He began to pant.   
Stop it!  
Don't run so fast they'll look!  
It... was THERE. The balcony was still THERE. It was OPEN! As soon as he got non-issued clothes he'd be fine.  
He swung the makeshift grappling hook in an arc before letting the the rope follow. Even if he missed his first throw he made it eventually. Glorious. It helped that he was always good at climbing. With a cautionary pull he began his ascent. The trick for him was to use your knees. Jump and clamp the knees against the rope. Still stung like hell from yesterday. With a final "Harumph!" He pulled himself up to the platform. A dress, pants, shirts and even socks hung in front of him! The dress was a perfect bag for the rope, just tie the flowy part. The fitting had to take place inside. Not like he wanted to undress in the open anyways. The socks fit weird and the underwear was unusable. Human stuff. He got the shirt on and pants when he realized they were super baggy. Welll that could be taken care of. Later. He needed a lighter. Humans smoked far more often what with fire not almost immediately immolating them. Was there a light switch? He put the socks on his hands. Don't leave prints.  
THERE!   
The lights flashed on stinging his eyes. Hell. After his eyes stopped hurting he could just see it was a small... mini-house? It didn't seem like was a bed in the room but a dinky kitchen was to the right. A tv room was to the left. They got a whole tv?! The walls were a bare white save for a painting of a man holding a daffodil. The only thing he needed from the exorbitant room was a small flashlight on a table with a lamp. The kitchen was more his forte. A single lonely sink sat next to the square fridge. There was a microwave that probably could set itself on fire even if you forgot to hit timer.The counter space could probably just barely hold a turkey. The walls were bare of the constant reminders of conversions for smaller children. Bare of anything. Just blank unlabeled cupboards. The drawers yielded utensils of varying quality. He took a steak knife. Seemed important. He opened all of the cupboards. Mostly pasta. Some condiments.   
Bingo. Lighter was over the sink..  
Nice.  
There was a small hand towel under the sink. He turned it on. Wet the towel in the sink, wipe yourself off. The towel came off as dirtier than he thought it would. Eww. Dish soap kinda stung a bit. Not wildlife safe, huh? Probably stung less if there weren't scratches all over his legs. Note to self: no pipe climbing anymore. He couldn't afford to stay long enough to wipe off more than his legs.   
There were only two other rooms in the houselett. One was a bathroom and the other was a bedroom with a vanity. Bingo!  
Makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup makeup..............  
NO. NO NO NONONONONONO.  
RED.  
.....  
FINE.   
Fine.  
He took all of the makeup he could in the dress bag. Might as well. Maybe he just didn't know how to use it.   
Before he left he looked for hoof-caps. Trackers probably found his by now.   
Shoes. How could he forget humans had those gross flesh pads? Ugh, he needed to wear shoes to blend in. Nice of them to have paper junk he could shove into the gaping ugly maw of the foot covers. Almost stuck to his legs that way. They had handy ropes to tie to himself as well. He tested the shoes and found he could properly walk. All he needed to do was cover the stamp on his face. The sock went over his cap for good measure. He pulled one of the red makeup things out of his bag and smeared the clay like stick all over his head. Sloppy, but it'll do..  
There was a door marked "STAIRS" at one end of the carpeted hallway. Other than the myriad of numbered doors, nothing but a window was on the the other end. He threw open the stairs door and descended. He was always terrible at stairs. So slow. Not to mention he was tired as hell. It wasn't like he heard the footsteps until he was face to face with the human. She was red.  
"MY DRESS!"  
He shoved her away as she yelled. He was naturally faster than humans but those weird shoes it cut his speed in half. It was freeing to bust from the front floor, majestic like a whale breaking the surface. It wouldn't be safe. Even as the pavement faded to dirt and his legs gave out. A small clearing in the park between the trees was ideal for this. It wouldn't be safe until he burned the clothes he used to wear. He'd only risk using his ability after he'd laid things out. The stolen goods rolled out of his dress bag and clattered noisily. The same palm extend and dull flash. The flashlight was a welcome upgrade. His old clothes looked like he'd been through a fight. The lighter was a forbidden trinket. The knife... he stuck it hard into the ground. The clothing needed to be frayed into a good base for the fire. Threads caught quickly, closer to cotton wool the better. He'd managed to fray enough that it looked like it would catch (hopefully) so he cleared a bit of dirt and placed the items in the middle. He lined the area with small rocks and chunks of concrete. It almost seemed like a ritual. A sacrifice for a new life.  
Flick the lighter with the knife.  
Throw that thing as soon as it starts.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Even as he climbed trees to get away from the site he felt like he had done something amazing. Something that would be the turning point for him.  
Maybe he should think of a temporary name.


End file.
